


Number 56

by real_fanta_sea



Series: Trikey Kiss Prompts [1]
Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pining, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:33:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29494365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/real_fanta_sea/pseuds/real_fanta_sea
Summary: "If you're serious about the kiss thing...... You should do trikey with 56 (moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed)? Mikey's getting irritated about all the shit in Trevor's house"
Relationships: Michael De Santa/Trevor Philips
Series: Trikey Kiss Prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2166414
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Number 56

Apart from being an exceptional place to hide from all kinds of law enforcement and pissed off gang bosses, Sandy Shores provides another highly valued quality - it’s fucking hot. And not that convenient ‘oh look it’s the first sunny day of spring’ kind of wee warm, but the brutal, penetrative heat of working by deep fryer in McDonald’s during summer.

Michael smacked his lips, belched and threw an empty bottle over the battered railing of the front porch. It clanked and landed on dusty ground with a satisfying crunch, and the sun-dried it in an instant. He lost count on how many of them he has already downed and disposed of, but drinking didn’t help no matter what style he tried. Slow, fast, cold, warm. He tried everything. Except feeling a bit sluggish, there was no effect the lukewarm Pisswasser could ever have on him after years of self-taxidermy with whiskey and coke.

The street went gradually silent by the time he finished yet another bottle, shadows grew longer, and the sun grilled him from a slightly different angle. A chatter of people was replaced by an out-of-tune orchestra of crickets and the Eagles blasting from a radio somewhere in the neighbourhood, both flowing through the air with the flavour of barbecue.

Another day successfully wasted Michael thought and shifted on the couch. If only the TV would work, he could have spent it watching movies. Or not, because the tin can ramshackle got so hot during the day he could barely breathe there. Fucking Trevor. If it wasn’t for him, he could be sitting by a pool full of ice, eating ice cream and slurping milkshakes from frozen tits. Maybe even pay the girl to ride him, so he didn’t have to move a finger. Or better yet, tie Trevor up, throw him into his tailgater, lock him there and make him watch them fuck… But did he really want it? Wouldn’t he be the one who would instantly let him out and have a wild make up sex with him?

An annoyed grunt later, Michael lazily tugged on the hem of his, now very rural looking, tank top and dried his forehead with it. Something deep within knew he shouldn’t have used the words Trevor and Fuck in one sentence because it awakened a part of him he should better let sleep. That part that supplied his tipsy brain with vivid images of long limbs locked around him, dark hair all over dirty pillows and amber eyes rolled back, set in a very flushed face… No, nope, it wasn’t what he wanted to think about, in fact, he just wanted another beer. Yeah, another beer to make that awkward semi go away. And maybe strip off his top to make that damn heat go away? Yup, that was what he wanted.  
Aaaand a cigarette. Perfection.

“FUCK FUCK FUCK!”

Michael’s half snore was interrupted by a sound of shutting the car door and heavy boots stomping through the cooling dust. A quick glance from the porch told him the Bodhi was back from where it took off in the morning, and there was a tall figure growling near it, shuffling some boxes in the back. For a second, Michael thought he actually moved back in time, because his back was killing him pretty much the same way it did in the morning with the same taste of beer on lips. The only detail that didn’t quite match was that his torso was now naked and pearled with sweat, and there was quite a lot of bottles and cans right below the railing.

Slowly and carefully, Michael stood up and stretched like a fat cat after a good afternoon nap. Trevor was still caught up by the truck, which gave M enough time to step a bit closer to the stairs and lean on a post to regain stability while observing the sight right in front of him. Trevor never was the most ripped guy, but the way his arms bulged when he lifted a box made Michael weaker than he would admit, and the way his jeans perked up his ass when he squatted made his mouth dry. Why the hell did he have to wear that black sleeveless top? Michael thought. He knows whenever he does, we end up fucking…

Just as he lip his bit for thinking about T that way, his best friend turned around for the first time since he arrived and locked eyes with Michael. For a brief moment, he looked surprised, even taken aback by that idiotic drunk grin on Michael’s face and the way he leaned against the only solid post of the house, but it soon was replaced by pure fury.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

That was actually an excellent question. Or it would be if Michael knew the answer to it.

“What? What do you mean?”

“You SLUT!!!”

Trevor charged towards him full speed in a split second and made Michael jump a little harder than he thought it would and jammed his lower back against the table, and both M and table cried in pain.

“What the fuck, Trevor! What’s your fucking problem… ouch…”

Trevor leapt up the stairs, grabbed one of Michael’s wrists and yanked him towards the door he kicked open.

“You fucking whore, YOU are the problem!”

Michael’s brain quit the chat altogether and bailed out on him, leaving him staring at Trevor with gaping mouth and slightly raised eyebrows. He stumbled through the door, unable to free himself from Trevor’s grip, and when T shut the door and threw him back first on them only to grab his shoulders to keep him still, all he could do was to stare into his fiery eyes.

“What were you thinking, showing off your tits to all our neighbours, huh?”

Michael gulped when Trevor leaned closer. Over the past few weeks, he learned the smell of gasoline and tobacco meant sloppy fucks on the kitchen counter and hungry kisses with bitten lips. That night, it all was topped with a gun powder.

“you dirty bitch, I leave you home alone for one day and when I come back what do I see? A pair of your slutty knockers right in my face.”

His hands suddenly decided to fight his stupor, and as he felt Trevor’s breath on his neck, he tugged on T’s top and hungrily squeezed waist found there. The only answer was a deep purr and wet tip of Trevor’s tongue right where his pulse drummed against the fine skin. With a small moan, he yanked Trevor closer and collided their hips, but Trevor was faster and grabbed both his wrists and pinned them against the tin door.

“You horny bitch, did showing off make you hot and wet? Or are you just happy to see me?”

Trevor’s anger was gone, now replaced with his usual horniness, as he ground his hips against Michael’s to let him know the thought got him hot too. And god that shit-eating grin on his face when he leaned in and bit Michael’s lip, but didn’t go for a full kiss… That was the point of no return. That fucking tease! Michael trashed under him and actually managed to get both hands freed just to leap forward and literally throw them both trough the bathroom door, for Trevor to land on the toilet bowl.

Michael could barely hear the sound of boxes and bottles clacking, falling to the dirty ground as he straddled Trevor and grabbed his head to steal that kiss he wanted since he saw him outside. Trevor just did his best to balance them both on the tiny bowl and waved his arms around, trying to grab onto something solid. Just as Michael decided to nib on Trevor’s lip lightly and open T up for a nice french action, something hit the back of his head with an annoying accuracy. Then it clanked on the ground, followed by choked laughter and sound of plastic rustling. Michael instinctively shot up and stumbled back, massaging the hit place.

“Ouch! T, what the fuck was that?!”

“That was a shower curtain, cupcake… I must have torn it when you tried to flush us both down the bowl…”

“and you won’t even say sorry you prick?”

“hmmm, how about showing you how sorry I am?”

Trevor possessed this strange ability to appear out of nowhere and cover M with kisses and hugs. Michael noticed only then how much taller Trevor really was when he was pinned against the shower wall and two hot hands slid past the waist of his jeans, kissing his lower lip too gently for Michael’s liking. At first, he went with the flow, burying his fingers to Trevor’s stubble and hair on the back of his head just to push him closer. Still, he set his mind to he didn’t want it there, slow and gentle with water running down his back, not that night. Michael knew well when he brushes his tongue against Trevor’s, pull back and bite his lip, T would not only let out a needy whimper, so unlike his manly growls, but he would also become weak enough to be pushed back to the kitchen where they could have much more fun. What he didn’t count with was a nasty crunch under his foot when Trevor stumbled back towards the sink which immediately broke their kiss. A small moan of frustration made Michael more anxious for a moment than he would ever admit.

“What is it, T? Are you ok?”

“Fuck, Michael, you stepped on my laxatives!”

“What?”

“How am I supposed to shit without them?”

“Screw them, you won’t need them when I’m done with you tonight.”

“Gee how hot…”

But there was no way Michael would let Trevor finish that sentence - all he wanted was to pin him to the kitchen counter, tear those sweatpants apart and fuck him. Now it was him who stomped around, holding Trevor’s hand and throwing him to the counter. It took him another second to grab a fist full of his hair and yank Trevor’s head backwards to relish absolutely delicious silhouette of his throat with adam’s apple bobbing up and down in excitement. Trevor’s moans only fired him up further and probed the hardened bud under the black shirt - to a promising whimper and a force pushing him aside to which he willingly succumbed and let a pair of lips suck onto his own so hard he hit his head against a tv stand which cried in pain and fell apart along with the tv.

“Fuck Trevor….”

“Not now, Mikey, don’t stop.”

Michael felt the telltale twitch under his belly that watered down the pain and gave him enough power to roll over a couple of times, french kissing the fuck out of those perfect full lips, drawing nails to Trevor’s now naked back and push his head closer. He almost didn’t mind when the radio hit the ground and when Trevor threw him onto the table which made their beer spill on the filthy floor. With Trevor on top, latched onto his nipple and running his hand down to his tightened jeans, nothing could stop him from getting what he wanted. As he tried to kick his jeans off, there was a slight sensation on his foot, but nothing very clear. It could have been a cup or something - when suddenly Trevor bolted upwards, and Michael was forced to open his eyes and look into his horrified face.

“Trevor I swear this isn’t funny, what is it this time…”

“Michael, we broke the Impotent Rage…”

“T are you trying to give me blue balls or what?”

“No, but you clearly want my home in shambles! Oh fuck look at that! This was a limited edition with a signature of the original cast!”

Trevor just emotionlessly bolted towards the couch, next to which lay a mass of broken blue plastic that might have been anything in Michael’s opinion. And it was in the way of reaching destination orgasm which made him a tiny bit mad. Ok, maybe a lot.

“Pardon me, but it was you who put it to the wrong place! Why did you leave it on the shelf with all this trash? Why don’t you just throw all this shit out?”

And with just one swing of the arm, he managed to throw the rest of Trevor’s memorabilia to the floor where it shattered comfortably.

“And this whole place is a fucking dump! Have you ever heard about wall-mounted TV or glass shower door? When the fuck will you live somewhere normal? Jesus, what do I have to break to make this place look decent? And that stupid action figure? What’s so special about it, anyway?”

He wouldn’t regret it if Trevor didn’t turn around with puppy eyes and didn’t tell him in his hurt voice.

“Because it was a gift from you…”

Michael didn’t quite know how he managed to pick Trevor up from the ground, bring him to the bed, plant gentle kisses to every inch of him and whisper he’s so so sorry. He didn’t even have to, because soon enough, Trevor pulled him closer again, rolled over on top of him and gave him a lesson from Canadian french that left Michael breathless. He just let it happen, running his hands all the way down from the back of Trevor’s head, to feeling his stubble, chest hair, hard nipples and his raging boner, and his nails draw new tattoos on Trevor’s back first and then drawing his fingers into soft inside of Trevor’s tights enjoying the view of T riding him.

“Hey M…”

“Hm?”

Michael lit a cigarette, just relishing the sweaty and sticky afterglow with Trevor pressed close to his side.

“You broke my impotent rage, gimme that…”

And before he could say or do anything, Trevor snatched his last cigarette and inhaled so deep half of it was gone.

“Hey! Give it back!”

“Make me!”

Michael instantly shot up, determined to kiss that grin off Trevor’s lips and lept forward only to bang his head against the headboard again. This time, Trevor didn’t even try to hold back and let his bubbly laughter echo in Michael’s aching head.

“Fuck you and fuck this damn trailer…”

“aww come on porkchop, you did both tonight - unless you are up for the round two?”

“Hmmm… Make me…”


End file.
